


The Boy Next Door

by withaflashoflove



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9782279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withaflashoflove/pseuds/withaflashoflove
Summary: Westallen AU in which Barry and Iris are friends and live in the same apartment complex, across the hall from each other.





	1. Chapter 1

Not this again.

She desperately needed to find a new apartment, one where her neighbors upstairs didn’t do horrendous things in their bathroom that made all the water leak into her apartment.

Specifically her bedroom, because someone obviously decided to stack these units in an architecturally incoherent way, where her upstairs neighbor’s bathroom aligned with her bedroom, effectively soaking her bed every single time  _ something  _ happened.

And it’s not like the landlord was of any help. Not like he’d take the time to get good plumbing, not like he even answered his phone when Iris called him five times in a row (which may or may not have happened on a couple occasions) so here she was, drenched as a result, because she happened to be lying on her bed at the same time the roof almost collapsed and soaked her bed, along with every inch her.

“Iris….”

She looks over to her bedroom door to see Barry standing there, suppressing a laugh she knows he won’t be able to hold in much longer, and she resists the urge to throw a wet pillow at him. Instead, she glares.

“I know.”

Iris was trying to save up the money to move, this shoddy apartment complex not cutting it anymore.

To be honest, it hadn’t been cutting it for the past few months, but she was always too busy to go apartment hunting, and everything in Central City was getting so much more expensive. Her job at CCPN was still relatively new, so the money she’d been earning was enough to buy her bear necessities, give a little back to the community, and deposit whatever was left in her savings. A few hundred dollars left over a month was good, but it wasn’t enough, not for a move to a better apartment that would undoubtedly cost her more than what she was paying now.

That was part of the reservation.

The other part, as much as she hated to admit it, probably for ego reasons, but also for fear reasons, was because of the pretty neighbor who lived right across from her.

The pretty neighbor with the green eyes and long eyelashes who was obnoxiously tall and sweet and kind. The same one who she’d grown so close to, often times falling asleep in his apartment or him in hers after they’d cooked each other dinner or watched a movie or did something together without really being  _ together. _

Barry Allen was an unexpected perk that greeted her at a time when everything was up in flames.

“Let me get you some towels,” he says, making his way out of her room and towards the drawer where she kept the towels. 

He said it like it’s the most casual thing, like this  _ thing  _ between them is completely normal, the fact that he has a key to her place, the fact that he comes in to check on her without even asking if she needs it, the fact that just now, he was carrying with him a bag filled with takeout because he just got off work and sometimes he liked surprising her with little quirks that made her day better.

When she left her dad’s house after living with him for a year after graduate school, it was all new. She didn’t expect to come back to Central City, instead wanting to take some time off to travel the world, 18 years in school much too long for her liking.

But then her mom passed away unexpectedly and both her brother and her dad were in bad shape to live alone, without her.

Iris coped better than they did, though in reality, she was just better at hiding it, better at being the support instead of needing the support, better at listening instead of talking. That was that, the way it would always be.

So she stayed for a year, until things were settled, and then she moved out. Still in Central City though because she couldn’t go too far without the concern for her family overwhelming her.

Also because she was beginning to move up in her career, little by little.

Two months after she moved out, she got a job offer at CCPN.

And the first person she told was her the pretty boy with the green eyes who lived across the hallway.

It wasn’t intentional. But she did scream when she found out the news and he - apparently - was so taken back that he nearly broke her door down.

_ Are you okay?!!?  _ He’d asked her that when she’d hurriedly let him inside, his concern igniting her concern because  _ oh god why was her neighbor pounding on her door, trying to break it down. _

She shared the news with him and he pulled her into a hug, one that gave her a surge of unexpected warmth and intimacy from a stranger of all people, and then invited her over for ice cream, and it’s been 8 months since that night, and ice cream was still their go-to dessert of choice.

She was a mint ice cream kind of girl.

Turned out he liked what she liked.

The same way that she liked her coffee strong and her desserts extra sweet.

The same way she liked her hugs extra tight and warm.

Barry Allen fit her the same way peanut butter molded to its jelly.

“Okay,” Barry pants, coming back into the room. “You may have a problem.”

“A problem?” She raises her eyebrows, already fed up with the current  _ water  _ situation to have anymore problems on her plate.

“Well,” he pulls out a towel from behind him, “this is also wet…”

She groans. “Don’t tell me.”

“Iri-”

“Nope! Don’t tell me,” she emphasizes, “because if you tell me the bathroom is flooded, I will cry.”

She pulls at the wet shirt sticking to her body, standing in hopes of finding some clothes.

But instead of getting too far, he comes to stand in front of her, wrapping her into a hug, and she fights it at first, but soon after relaxes at the warmth of his body.

“I’m wet,” she whines, her voice muffled.

“‘s okay,” he responds, rubbing her back gently, the same way he did sometimes when she’s having a bad day or when he doesn’t want to leave or doesn’t want her to leave, and yeah...it’s their special hug.

They worked like that.

Always completed each other in places that were seemingly incomplete, always made each other a little better and a little kinder...and…

...well, he made her a little softer too.

Because Barry was the one to open her up, on a night where she’d shut the rest of the world off, on a night where the bottle was the only thing she was still gripping onto, on a night where the pain of her mother’s death all but consumed her.

She wasn’t sure how he managed his way inside her place; maybe she’d accidently left it open or maybe he picked the lock, but he found her on the ground, body pressed against the wall, knees hugged to her chest, and he held her for hours on end without saying a word.

That was awhile back.

This was now. He was holding her with the same tenderness as he always did, had her wrapped up in his arms like he wouldn’t let anything hurt her, and his chin was on her head and Iris could feel the pads of his fingers rub gently along her back.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers into her hair.

She mumbles out an  _ okay  _ that gets muffled by his shirt, but she doesn’t have the energy to say it louder. Her apartment was a hell-hole, one that definitely wasn’t going to get fixed anytime soon, and Iris already knew apartment hunting just got added to a laundry list of things she had to do.

“Stop doing that.” Barry pulls himself from the tight press of her body, but keeps his hands firm against her back. “I know you’re already making a list of everything you have to do now. But push that off a little.”

She fights the tears.

“Stay with me,” he repeats, now rubbing his hands along her back. He closes the distance between them again, pressing a close-lipped kiss to her forehead.

Iris relaxes at the gesture. She lets the tension sink away from her body and trusts that he’ll hold her through it. Before her anxiety flares, before she can think about the accommodations she has to make now, before she has to hear another lecture from her dad about moving back in and living with him.

“Of all the apartments, this is the one I was fated with,” she sighs.

“Mhm.” Barry nods and brings his hands to her chin, grips it firmly between his thumb and index finger, and locks eyes with her.

And he looks so soft compared to her. She just wants to sink into his embrace, to stall the rest of her worries forever and stay wrapped up in him.

“If you didn’t move into this apartment, you would’ve never met me,” he smiles, “and that would’ve been the biggest disservice the universe would suffer.”

She laughs. The hyperbole helps, though she’s sure the biggest disservice to the universe is already crowned to a much bigger global disaster, the furthest thing away from two people not meeting each other, but she swallows it. Instead, she wills her eyes to dry the tears away.

“I think I have to stay the night with you,” Iris says.

“Are we both pretending I didn’t just offer that solution?”

“Mhm,” she grins.

“Really now?”

“It was my idea. I’m the genius.”

And Barry laughs with her as he pulls her back into his chest, ignoring the wet shirt, ignoring her cold body. He just holds her close for a few more seconds, enjoying the feel of her body against his and the smell of her hair and how it tickles his nose, ignoring the fact that he just kind of sort of asked her to move in with him, albeit intentionally, and his nerves are on high because he thinks maybe if she moves in, she doesn’t have to ever leave, maybe he’ll finally admit that he’s in love with her, been in love with her since the first night he met her, but her breathing brings him back to reality, and she’s keeping him calm, keeping him grounded so the thoughts don’t carry him away, like she always does.

* * *

 

“Thank god you have a functioning apartment.” Iris pulls Barry’s shirt down over her body as she enters his living room. He catches a glimpse of her belly button right before she gives the shirt a final tug and he has to look away, otherwise he might fall flat on the floor.

Barry’s already prepared the basics: a blanket, four pillows, a movie and a giant bowl of popcorn to complement all her favorite sweets. Everything was awaiting her entrance, including him.

But what he didn’t prepare for was how beautiful she looked wearing  _ his  _ shirt and  _ his  _ boxers.

The remote falls haphazardly out of his hand. “H..hi,” he stutters out.

Iris grins as she walks over to the couch. She pulls the blanket up and plops down, before draping it over herself. Barry does all he can not to stare.

He’s seen her in similar states before. This isn’t the first time she’s stayed at his place or worn his clothes, and this isn’t the first time they’ve had movie night together while cuddling and eventually falling asleep on the couch.

But tonight felt different. Tonight, he was starting to imagine preposterous things like doing this every night with her, except maying kissing her and maybe cuddling naked and making waking up in her arms, with her legs tangled with his and her head on his chest.

Barry’s been kicking himself for the last eight months really for not telling her.

The first four of those months, he was struggling with falling out of love with the girl he thought he would marry. Though, if he was being honest with himself, he’d been out of love with her for a while. Meeting Iris just made him realize how much that reality was staring him in the face.

He knew, no matter how much he tried and how much he wanted to be with her, it wouldn’t work. Especially when he was falling in love with someone else.

When they broke up, Iris spent the entire day with him. He still remembers it vividly. The break up happened Friday night. He told Iris Saturday morning and the two of them did everything that day. She bought him chocolate and ice cream and took him on a bike ride across Central City, only to make pit stop to get more ice cream cones and cookies and coffee for her because she loved her caffeine. And she accidently got whipped cream on her nose, whipped cream that Barry couldn’t stop laughing it, but she didn’t lick it away because she knew it made him happy and he ended up wiping some on his nose just so they’d match.

After then, he’s been falling for her harder and harder every day.

But somewhere along the way, he became scared of losing her. They had a good system, they were best friends, each other’s supports, each other’s emergency contacts, and he was afraid if he risked saying anything, he’d ruin the most special thing he’d created, this friendship with her.

No one could take it away from him. Not like how others took away his mom and then his dad. Iris was his, and he promised he wouldn’t do anything to risk that, which definitely meant not taking it away himself.

“So,” her voice breaks him from his thoughts, “what movie are we watching?”

Barry doesn’t answer.

Instead, her turns his body and faces her. 

She gives him a cautious look.

“Everything is going to be okay, Iris,” he reassures her. Though in part, he’s reassuring himself, that  _ everything is going to be okay, Barry,  _ if he so chooses to tell her how he feels, which he definitely thinks he might. Barry Allen has no control when it comes to her.

She smiles and gives a little nod. “I hope.”

“It will. And I’ll help, with whatever you need.”

“Okay,” Iris confirms. She moves the popcorn bowl from in between them and sets it on the table momentarily, as she repositions her body so that her side is pressed against his. Iris takes his arm and drapes it around her shoulder, as she reaches for the bowl again and sets it jointly on their laps.

“My hero,” she tells sincerely, her eyes big and brown and soft.

He smiles back. 

Barry leans into her after reaching for the remote again.

As the movie plays in the background, he has to actively shun out his thoughts from distracting the current moment. Because as much as he wants to just kiss her right here right now, he knows she’s had a hard day, and he doesn’t want to add to it.

So he holds her a little closer and settles for pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

And when he feels her fall asleep in his arms, he promises himself, he’ll tell her before she finds a new apartment. He’ll tell her he loves her. He’ll tell her everything and hope that..maybe...just maybe, she feels the same way.


	2. Chapter 2

For the past six days, Barry’s been falling asleep and waking up to the same sight every night and every morning.

He decided, after the first night Iris stayed with him, that the couch was far too uncomfortable for them to fall asleep on. With a sore neck and a numb arm, his entire body was aching before work and definitely after work that next day.

So when he came home - to find her already there, might he add, with a huge dinner prepared consisting entirely of desserts - he proposed that all their movie-watching/catch-up work/other endeavors be done on his bed, in his bedroom, so to avoid anymore unnecessary and uncomfortable pain.

And yes, she gave him a curious look when he first proposed it. Because of course she would, anyone in her shoes would do the same, would scrunch their nose and cock their head to the side and cross their arms and lean over to one leg. Except no one would look as cute as Iris doing it, of that he was convinced.

Her one-night stay wasn’t supposed to lead to anything more. Afterall, his offer - or  _ her  _ offer, because Iris was the genius who came up with the plan - was only for one night, but Barry liked the feeling of her in his arms and he liked waking up to her steady breathing and hand curled around the lapels of his shirt, while the other one laid calm, wrapped around his waist. So he decided to extend the visit, given he had an excuse, something along the lines of her bed being wet and her bathroom unusable.

Her curiosity led him into a rambling mess of an explanation which she eventually interrupted by bringing her index finger to touch his lips, the word  _ shhhhh _ coming out as a whisper from her own mouth, accompanied by a laugh.

The thing about Iris was that she liked teasing a whole lot. Normally, he loved their banter too, loved that they could be as witty and as sarcastic and as annoying with each other, a luxury they didn’t have with other people, and never miss a beat. But at that specific instance, he didn’t appreciate it one bit. Not when his heart almost stopped beating because he thought maybe she finally caught onto his plan, maybe she somehow put together the offering her a place to live and the suggesting of sleeping in bed together, that she knew he loved her and she didn’t want him and it was just a preview of the rejection surely to follow.

She quickly appeased all those fears though with her laugh. And she buried them even deeper when she gave him a bone-crushing hug. 

So they had the same routine every day for the past six. She’d come home later than him, most days, due to apartment hunting. She’d either bring take-out or he’d have dinner served. They’d talk a little about what transpired during the day. Then he’d go freshen up and she’d have changed into pjs, pjs that consisted of a shirt she borrowed from him and pants she borrowed from him, even though her apartment was across the hall, even though she could easily walk over and get all the clothes she needed.

Barry didn’t ask her why. He was too busy smiling. She looked good in his clothes.

And this morning was no exception.

Not about the clothes at least. 

But usually she left bed before he did, was up and in the kitchen drinking her coffee and working on some last minute edits before work, before he even took his morning shower.

Today that wasn’t the case.

Instead, the moment he opened his eyes, he realized that he was buried in  _ Iris. _

Because Iris was still in bed next to him, and he was spooning her, their legs tangling together, his nose in her neck, his hand covering hers, both laying on her hip bone, above the sheets. She was still asleep, he could tell, by the gentle rise and fall of her chest. He, on the other hand, was definitely not.

_ Iris. _

Sometime during the night, he must’ve migrated over to her side of his bed. It was unintentional, really. He wanted her to feel safe and comfortable during his stay, especially when she was sleeping in his bed. There was something so delicate and vulnerable about sleep, like it required the right balance to keep it going. And he didn’t want to break that balance, didn’t want to damage the trust and love that Iris must have felt towards him to even be here. Apparently, last night was an exception though, his body traveling subconsciously, curling into her so there was only the distance created by their respective clothes between them. 

He takes a few moments to fully open his eyes, the desire of wanting to sink back into her neck overwhelming. Instead, he thinks maybe he should pull away, maybe he should get out of bed and make coffee for her this morning, like she’d been doing for him.

But the second his nose accidentally brushes against her cheek, Iris grips his interlocked fingers a little tighter and twists around, enough to push him on his back, enough to reposition the two of them all over again.

He goes readily, not wanting to interfere with what her mind is telling her to do. And he could brush off this position - her head on his chest and her arm draped around his waist - a little more easily than their previous one, could pretend, if she pressed him on why they were cuddled so close to each other, that she was the one to blame and that he had nothing to do with it. 

Barry readjusts to their current position, as he brings one arm to wrap around her back. The other lies lifelessly on the mattress beside him. He’s too afraid to bring it over and lock his hands together, too afraid that that’ll be too much intimacy, that it’ll tip the scale in the wrong direction.

His restless thoughts keep him from enjoying the feeling of Iris in his arms for another half an hour. It’s when he feels her eyelashes move along his neck that he snaps back to the current reality.

She stirs just enough to signal her awakening. And then she’s looking up at him with her lazy doe eyes and he decides he never wants to leave this bed, never wants to leave her side again.

“Morning,” Iris murmurs, so softly that he almost misses it.

Barry smiles, muttering his own  _ hi _ in response.

They stare at each other as the morning sun comes to life. She’s all limb and no bone on top of him and he’s a mess of emotions, because how can he not be when she’s looking so soft and so warm, when she’s looking at him like she never wants him to leave. And then her fingertips are brushing against his cheek, then tracing the freckles on his face, like she’s playing a game of connect-the-dots and before he knows it, before he can process what happens, the pads of her fingers graze against his lips before her own lips replace them. And then their lips are touching....

...and then they’re not.

His eyes have unintentionally closed in the process of all of this. When he opens them again to try to get a better grasp as to what just happened, Iris only gives him a shy look in response.

But before he can ask, before he can break the calming silence of the morning, his alarm sounds and her phone rings, and this moment that was just between them suddenly becomes of the past. 

Just like that.

* * *

She’s been sitting in her apartment for the past half an hour.

Iris knows Barry’s probably waiting for her at his place, but today she found out she got the apartment of her dreams at a price reasonable for her budget. And she wants to take it.

Today, she also kissed Barry Allen. In the morning. After she decided to stay in bed longer, to wake up with him instead of before him, to kiss him in the calm of the morning.

Something about falling asleep in his arms six nights in a row must have done it for her. Something about feeling so protected and safe in his embrace must have given her courage she didn’t know she had.

It wasn’t a long kiss. If anything, she’s having trouble believing it even happened. One second her lips were on his and his hand was curling into her shirt - the shirt she’d borrowed from him - and the next, both their phones were ringing.

They didn’t have time to talk about it afterwards. 

Iris had to sprint to a last-minute interview with a source she’d been pushing for. Barry didn’t make an effort to push her on it either. Just gave her a goodbye wave and wished her luck.

Now, it’s nearing 8 p.m. and she’s supposed to go see him. She’s sure he’s made dinner for them again and the longer she stays in this apartment, the colder the food gets.

But a part of her is worried, worried that maybe he didn’t like the kiss and that maybe things will be awkward for the two of them now and maybe he won’t want her to come over because they’re getting too intimate, a type of intimate he doesn’t want them to reach, and Iris is all vulnerability in the moment.

She takes a deep breath.

Rationally, the new apartment she was offered came at the perfect time. Because if Barry indeed didn’t want what she wanted, she had the perfect excuse to leave the entire building without making it about him rejecting her.

And that was good. It was a plan and Iris did well with plans.

But the irrational side of her couldn’t help feeling the weight of this newfound routine between the two of them ending. She liked being with him, liked falling asleep with him and making him coffee in the morning, liked coming home to find dinner ready, liked hugging him tight and feeling his lips press to the top of her head while his hands rubbed gently along her back.

She liked the domesticity and the comfort and how warm he made her feel.

Mostly, she liked him.

Loved him.

Maybe?

Probably…

Who was she kidding?

Iris West was in love with the pretty boy from across the hall. The same pretty boy she kissed earlier today. The same pretty boy she’s hiding from now.

Her phone dings next to her. A text from Barry appears on the screen.

_ When do you think you’ll be home?   _ It reads.

Iris holds her breath.

_ Home. _ He writes it like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

She slowly picks up the phone, unlocks it and begins typing the response.

_ Depends...what’s for dinner?   _ She sends.

Within seconds, his answer comes.  _ Dessert for dinner tonight. Made all your favorites, brownies included :). _

Iris grins. 

She decides not to answer it. 

Instead, she stands up and flattens out her blouse, counts to ten in her head over and over as she makes her way out of her apartment and into the hallway and to his front door.

She could open the door herself, has the key to unlock it. But there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to impose on his personal space, already feeling self-conscious for doing that in the morning. So she settles for knocking.

It only takes a few seconds for Barry to open.

When he does, she immediately recognizes the glisten in his bottomless green eyes and how they’re so soft when they’re gazing into her own. They match the curve of his smile, so much so that all the nervous energy she’d been feeling dissipates as soon as the door comes to a full swing open.

“That was quick,” Barry grins.

“Yeah,” she ducks her head shyly, “I was nearby.”

Tenderly, he reaches for her hand and pulls her inside and she realizes Barry definitely wasn’t lying when he said it was a dessert-themed dinner.

“You made three different types of brownies?” She gapes in awe at the trays sitting on his counter.

“Regular, peanut butter, and mint,” Barry answers from behind her.

She spins around on the balls of her feet and jumps into his arms. 

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it much. Because he catches her all the same and tucks his head into her neck, laughing presumably at how excited she tends to get over something as small as brownies.

“How are you single?” Iris asks hurriedly. “How is someone as precious and sweet as you single?”

Barry’s smile falls.

And that’s when she realizes she got caught up in the moment.

Quickly, she apologizes. “I didn’t mean that...sorry that was insensitive!”

Iris goes to let go, embarrassment and guilt flooding her fast, but she’s stopped dead in her tracks when she feels his lips on hers, and he’s tugging at her bottom lip fiercely while his arms are wrapping tightly around her waist, and Iris loses all her perplexed thoughts, gets lost with him in the heat of the moment, lets him kiss her worries away.

She’s panting hard by the time he pulls away.

When she opens her eyes, Barry’s still looking at her like she’s the reason science makes sense, and it makes her go weak in the knees.

“Sorry if I shouldn’t have done that,” he begins, “but your apartment people called today, said you weren’t answering their calls and that you put me down as your other point of contact and they wanted me to tell you that you got the place in case you were interested.

I don’t know if you already knew, but here’s me telling you, but before you make a decision, you should know you’re welcome to stay with me, if you want. You can stay with me for a few more days till you make up your mind, or weeks or forever, really, whatever you want.”

Iris’s mind is racing as fast as his words.

He doesn’t let her catch a break.

“I mean, I’m not asking you to move in or anything. Scratch that, scratch that.” Barry pauses momentarily, furrowing his eyebrows. He takes a breath and meets her eyes. “I am asking you to move in, if you want, if you need a place to stay, you can live here, with me. And the guy on the phone referred to me as your boyfriend and you kissed me earlier this morning, I think, and I didn’t know I was your boyfriend, but if you want me to be, I’ll be, only if you wanna be my girlfriend, because you're single too and you shouldn't be single, and because I’d really really  _ really  _ love it if you were and if you wanted to move in here and stay with me and maybe kiss me again like I just kissed you…

...if you want.”

She has to breathe twice as hard to make up for the lack of oxygen she’s sure he's getting.

Iris thinks he just kissed her, asked her to move in with him and asked her to be his girlfriend, all in the same breath.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Barry starts again, “I ju-”

He doesn’t give her a choice, really. She just  _ has  _ to cut him off. 

“Yes,” Iris pants, between open-mouthed, sloppy kisses, “I want -” her voice trails off as she sucks on his bottom lip “- I want all of it.”

Barry breaks away first.

He holds her tight as his eyes flutter open. “Yeah?” he asks shyly.

Iris nods her head, brushes a few of his messy strands of hair back in place. “Yeah.” She answers with the same shyness. “I’d like that.”

The brownies go untouched for a few hours. But in the morning, when she wakes up, she’s greeted to all three trays in front of her on bed and Barry laughs as he crawls by her side again, gives her a long, lingering kiss to jolt her awake, and they spend the entire Saturday eating brownies and making out and talking about living arrangements and she can’t help but thank her lucky stars for the neighbors upstairs and their reckless activities for ruining her apartment and giving her the push she needed to come home to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on tumblr :) - withaflashofloveff
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed it!


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